Coco: One shots, Preferences, and Scenarios ((Requests Closed!!)

S: Comfort

Whew! Sorry for the delay with this one, guys, but it's finally here!! Enjoy!!!

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Miguel

You sat at the dinner table with your family, twirling your fork around aimlessly at your plate. You were having noodles that night, but currently not a single strand found itself on your fork. Moreover, you didn't notice nor care that it was empty. Your family however did take notice.

"Y/N...What's wrong, mija, you've barely touched your food," your father remarked, giving you a worried glance. You jumped in surprise, apparently having zoned out completely at the table. You shake your head, but give no vocal response. Instead, you continue twirling your fork, this time taking enough care to at least make sure to wrangle some noodles. Mama shook her head.

"Y/N, if something's bothering you, you need to tell us! We're your family, you can tell us anything!" You sighed deeply.

"I know, Mama. It's just...it's not really something you can help with...," you respond. Your parents exchanged nervous looks, then your Mama spoke again.

"Well, if...you don't feel like you're ready to talk to us about it...wh-why don't you talk to Miguel after dinner? He's your best friend, isn't he? Maybe he could help?" your mother asked, sounding a bit hurt. You didn't mean to hurt their feelings, but you also knew there was nothing they could really do for you. Why make them worry? But you liked the idea of talking with Miguel. He actually might understand! You give your mother a weak smile.

"Yeah...th-that might actually work...Gracias, Mama," she nodded at you and continued to eat. The rest of the dinner was overtaken by an awkward silence.

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You pulled the sleeves of your shirt down over your hands on the walk to Miguel's house. It was unusually chilly, even for a Santa Cecilia evening. You bit your lip on the way over. You hadn't told your family, and you were pretty sure Miguel hadn't told his either, but you two were actually a couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. At least, you thought you were. After all, the last time you went into the Rivera family compound, you and Miguel had shared your first kiss. You felt comfortable with him. That and he had shared his insecurities with you. Maybe he could help you now. When you finally arrived at the front door of the compound, you gave the large, old, wooden doors a couple loud pounds. You heard the distant yell of Miguel's Abuelita as frantic footsteps could be heard approaching the door. When the doors in front of you flew open, there stood Miguel, panting and hair disheveled from rushing. When he saw you, a big lopsided smile overtook his face.

"Oh, hola, Y/N!" He began as he pushed the hair out of his eyes, "What're you-...," he paused and his face fell when he finally took in the features on your face. You looked like you were on the verge of tears. Your eyes were puffy and shining, your bottom lip quivered, and your cheeks were flushed. Miguel said nothing, but turned his head back into the confines of the compound, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Mama, I'm going out for a little bit!" He yelled into the open area.

"Okay, mijo! Be back by eight!" Came a response from somewhere in the maze of buildings. With that, Miguel stepped outside, softly closing the large doors behind him. He then placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..What's wrong...," you grabbed a hold of his hand tightly, swallowing hard the rock in your throat.

"Mig-uel," you started, voice cracking, "c-can we go somewhere...to-to talk....please?" Miguel bit down on his lip. He knew just where to go.

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There really was no more secluded place in Santa Cecelia than Miguel's small hideaway in the attic of one of his family's business buildings. It wasn't the first time you'd been here, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But right now, you felt like there was nowhere else you'd rather be. You pulled your knees into your chest for warmth. It had started raining as you two made your way up here, and your damp shirt wasn't bringing you much warmth anymore. You then felt a warmness envelop you as you noticed a red garment cover your form. Miguel had draped his hoodie over your shoulders then went about lighting the candles around the attic. You brought the hoodie as close as you possibly could to your body, muttering your gratitude. Once he was satisfied with the lighting, Miguel sat himself in front of you, face coated with concern.